


the serpents in the grass

by FreshBrains



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Kink Meme, Past Abuse, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margot knew she needed someone to make sure no one ever touched her again without her permission, and Miriam needed someone to keep her out of the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the serpents in the grass

**Author's Note:**

> For the Hannibal Kink Meme prompt: _Miriam/anybody, She feels terrible due to PTSD, her missing arm (despite a high quality prosthetic) and knowing that Hannibal mindfucked her into shooting the wrong guy. I'd like to see someone just be understanding and nice to her and not consider missing arm that big a deal._
> 
> Mentions of past torture/abuse, some thoughts that may be considered internalized ableism.

“I don’t,” Miriam starts, lips pressed together in a firm line. “I don’t know if I like that.”

Margot glances up, mouth still grazing the junction between Miriam’s shoulder and neck. Her eyes always have an odd effect on Miriam; they’re frightening and adorable at the same time, like some sort of haunted Kewpie doll. “How so?”

“I can still feel it sometimes,” Miriam says, uncomfortable. She nods down at the area where her prosthesis usually is, her premium prosthesis that tricks the world into thinking she’s whole. It’s sitting within reach on the overstuffed chair next to Margot’s bed, its designated spot. “It sort of tickles.”

Margot pouts a little but pulls away, resting her palm on Miriam’s stomach. “That’s no good. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Miriam says, reaching over to brush a lock of Margot’s hair behind her ear. “It’s just…an absence, if that makes sense.” Even after a year of therapy and the go-ahead that she was ready to start her training again, she still felt incomplete, and it wasn’t just her arm.

Margot nods slowly, head tilted like she’s examining Miriam. She takes Miriam’s hand and presses it to her own naked stomach, to the angry purple-brown scar she makes no effort to hide. “I think I know what you mean. The Verger family has never handled loss well.”

“God,” Miriam says with a mirthless laugh. “We’re so fucked.” She feels the overwhelming urge to press Margot down into the blankets again and eat her out, arm pressed tightly over Margot’s stomach so she can’t squirm away from the sensation overload. She loves every inch of Margot Verger, all her porcelain-pale skin and dark hair, her small breasts, the light brown hair between her legs. Margot makes her feel powerful again—powerful, but not cruel. Not the way she felt when she took the Guru’s gun and took out her so-called captor.

“That we are, sweetheart,” Margot says, and her breath hitches a bit, like she can read Miriam’s mind. She makes no secret of the fact that she loves Miriam’s quiet strength, the muscles in her legs and back she kept good care of when she was held captive, the stern, dark stare she’d give Margot before fucking her as hard as she could. She appreciates the kind of power people have when they’ve lost everything and have nothing else to covet. “We’re fucked, and the world fucked us.”

“No,” Miriam said, leaning up to stare down at Margot with a steady gaze. “We know _exactly_ who did this to us.” She didn’t have to gesture down at their war-torn bodies for Margot to know what she meant.

Margot sighs, snuggling deeper into their embrace. “And now we’ll just do each other,” she says dryly.

It takes a moment, but Miriam laughs, pressing her face into Margot’s hair. “I’m glad I found you,” she says softly, a rare moment of candidness.

“Me too,” Margot says, closing her eyes. “We’ll protect each other from now on. Right?” Margot knew she needed someone to make sure no one ever touched her again without her permission, and Miriam needed someone to keep her out of the darkness. Margot was very, _very_ familiar with darkness.

“Right,” Miriam says, and holds her closer.


End file.
